Mischief

Allow Me To Reintroduce Myself

Back in 2010 I invested in a creative writing class at my designated university. Just for shits. And just for giggles. And in this class the teacher assigned us a project.

To write a 1 page autobiography of ourselves.

And that was it.

What did I write?

This:

Rewind.

Queens, New York.

A man meets a woman. The man is a fresh arrival from Poland. The woman originating from Korea.

Fast Forward. >> Play.

Queens, New York.

A new baby is born. Let’s name her Samantha. No, Bianca. No, Danielle. Wait… Olive. Olive Danielle. Yeah, that’s it. Good choice. 2 years pass and the man grows tired of the city life. He pleads with his wife and 2 year old baby to consider a small town life. A very, small town life. The woman is hesitant to leave the city of dreams, but surrenders in the name of love. So the Polish man, Korean woman, and half Polish, half Korean baby made their way to Lafayette Louisiana.

Fast Forward. >> Play.

A year and a half later, another baby is born. Father and daughter sit impatiently in the waiting room of the Lafayette General Hospital. Olive kiCKing her seat in excitement, barely able to remain still. The door quietly

op ens

And the nurse says “You can come in now.”

Father looks at his daughter. >> << Daughter looks at her father.

They smile, he nods his head. Olive bolts for the door and swings it open with tremendous force. The baby is crying, a lot. Olive cautiously approaches the crib, places her small hands on the rim, peeks over at the distressed baby and says “Shut up you’re very annoying.” Kicked the crib, hard, and proceeded to crawl into bed with the new mother of 2 for an episode of the Flintstones. “What do you want to name your new sister?” the man and woman ask their 3 ½ year old first born, currently in a ball next to her Mother. “Silvia.” She says.

The man is gone. He went back to Poland, “found a better job there. And I’m sorry.” he says. The woman, 6 year old Olive, and 3 ½ year old Silvia,

Deserted

In Lafayette Louisiana. One day, the woman picked up her daughter from the bus stop, and with a soft tone said “Your father and I aren’t going to be together anymore.” “It’s about time,” her young daughter calmly replied. That night the woman locked the bathroom door, with her 6 year old daughter inside. She is crying, a lot. “This is not what I wanted” she yelled, sobbing through her tears, embracing her daughter. “I just don’t know who else to talk to…”

“I found a great job in Ohio, and I think I’m going to take it.” The woman says to her daughters. Goodbye Lafayette Louisiana. Good friends. Good food. Absent father. Toledo Ohio. The Suburbs. Eh. Olive is now 12, Silvia now 8 ½. New school, sucked. New gymnastics gym, sucked. New piano teacher, the worst. The adjustment was unexpectedly tough. Turns out, 6th graders in Ohio aren’t looking to make new friends.

The man phones his family periodically. Maybe because he misses them. Maybe because of guilt. Silvia loves her father just the same. Olive does not. She is short and cold with his phone calls, it hurts her to be that way, but his rejection doesn’t give her a choice. “I’m coming to see you this Christmas,” he said excitedly “I can’t wait to see you, I love you and miss you so much. Olive, please write me a letter” he begs her. “Please.” He wrote frequent letters, followed by no responses. Olive caved. A few days later, after her sister’s 9th birthday, she pulled out a pen and paper and wrote a casual letter to her father. Partly to grant his wish, but mostly to make amends with the person she loved more than she could admit. “Love your daughter, Olive.”

Perfect.

She walked downstairs, the letter folded in her small hands and approached her mother. “Can you send this letter to daddy please?” she requested. Her mother turned from the dishes, her eyes exhausted with sadness and said to her daughter, “Olive, your father died today.”

Bad timing.

The ages of 12-17 were a blur to her. Piano. School. Gymnastics. Repeat. Piano. School. Gymnastics. Repeat. Piano. School. Gymnastics. Repeat. She was going through the motions, but finding little joy in them. The gymnastics glory and superficial friends felt mediocre at best. “I think you should quit gymnastics” her mother told her one day. “Spend your last year of high school making real friends. Join the high school gymnastics team if you want, but this is not the kind of life that is making you happy, Olive.” So she obeyed her mother. And she was happy she did. She did have more time for friends, and even boys. She finally experienced her first real heart break at the age of 18, her first acts of spontaneity that didn’t have to revolve around such a structured schedule, she finally found an outlet of happiness. She was always a happy person, but

Her happiness hadn’t been renewed, since the 6th grade.

Fast Forward. >> Play.

College. Oh, what a life. Freedom, independence, and plenty of room for mistakes. New friends, better friends, than ever before. Parties, temptations, decision making, battle of the freshman 15. She joined the club gymnastics team, indulged herself in a sorority and committed herself to an on campus magazine. She met a boy. A better one. A much better one. Studying abroad, traveling Europe, climbing mountains, tasting Italian pizza, finding fantastic friends.

At this rate, happiness was inevitable.

II Pause II

Oxford, Ohio. Graduation day. New York City. She’s born again. Half of it is her original being, and the other half is a fresh arrival of change. Work. Work. Depression. Work. Tortilla chips. Work. Work. New friends. Work. Break up. Work. New apartment. Work. Follow your dreams, Olive. Work. No. Work. Just do it. Work. Maybe. Start a blog. No. Work. You won’t regret it.

31 Responses

The way life turns out to be… I have always imagined you as a really happy, humorous girl. I didn’t know the other side of the story. I am sorry to hear about your dad. But the way you have succeeded in life, you are truly an inspiration. I love the way you write.
And hey, you have changed your layout..its really cool.

Happy to see you back in action! And, I bet you got an A+ on your creative writing assignment. Sorry to hear about your absent father. I had a similar experience as a very young child that sometimes eeks its way into adulthood but I was granted an even better dad when my mom remarried. I, for one, am happy you started your blog and am always excited to see a new post in my inbox. Cheers!

So happy that you found me on my new site (: Still working on my rerouting technicalities and I was worried I wouldn’t hear from you again!. So, welcome (: I’m glad we can relate on such an emotional level and I’m so happy to hear that you’re so happy as well. I’ll cheers to that!

Awesome website Olive! Great post and I loved the video you made. It is so much like your website. You should be so proud. By the way, I keep trying to get you freshly pressed, but to no avail so far. It is a crime you haven’t been yet.

I’m so glad you found me on my new site! I did my best to transfer everyone ever (: I do feel really great. But only because fantastic followers like you make me feel so wonderful about it all. I appreciate your unconditional support. As always, it means the world (:

I don’t recall if I’ve ever written you before, but I sometimes tune in. Thank you for this post. You are a very talented writer. I’m glad to see so many people feel inspired by you. It’s important that you tell the hardship story. It makes us feel less alone. The Internet is full of information. I’m glad I found you.

I really appreciate your genuine feedback and that you even took the time to write it. I hesitated before posting this story because it’s always a really scary and vulnerable thing to put yourself out there so publicly, but I do it so others will feel less alone as well. Thanks for reminding me that I did just that (: Happy Wednesday!

Mi querida Olive — Your ceaseless optimism is an inspiration to me. I thoroughly enjoyed this auto-biography and feel like I got to know you even a little more. Anxiously awaiting our next brunch date in NYC. I think at the very latest I will be coming through in the Spring season Anyways, I shall continue to subscribe and follow this beautiful adventure and I cannot wait to see where it lands you next. Mil abrazos. – Elena

[…] to attend an event they saw on a flyer. Saw posted online. Or heard about it through word of mouth. About a girl named Olive. Who had some friends. Who wanted to tell stories. And they wanted to hear the stories they had to […]

[…] Responsible for the Korean half our heritage, my mom booked flights for the family in the summer of 2010 saying, “I want you to learn about where you come from. Korea is a part of you, and I want you to see it.” […]